Let's Shake Things Up: In Name and Blood
by hotchityhotchhotch
Summary: Oneshot. First in the "Let's Shake Things Up" series. What should have happened at Emily's apartment. COMPLETE.


**A/N: I'm trying this new thing where I take a favorite H/P moment from the show and write it how it should have gone. Let me know what you think! I will probably write more. Most of them will be independent of one another, but a couple of episodes/moments might be in one story, and the idea will be the same: take the episode, shake things up. :)**

**I don't own Criminal Minds, of course, so I don't own this episode, but I did of course use parts of it. I've italicized sections that are straight from the episode, as well as italicized thoughts (like I normally do). Hope it's not confusing.**

_A sharp set of knocks at her apartment door interrupted Emily's task of finding something edible in her long-abandoned refrigerator. She strode to the door and looked through the peephole, laughing to herself when she saw who it was. Navy suit, light blue pressed shirt, red striped tie, perfectly gelled hair, set face. She opened up for him and stood in the doorway, resting her weight on one hip, staring at him incredulously. _What the hell is he doing here?_ she wondered._

_"Can I come in?" Hotch asked._

_Emily moved out of the way and gestured him inside the eerily clean, modernly decorated apartment that she rarely got the chance to enjoy._

_"The team needs us," he said as Emily switched off some quiet music; he was wasting no time in getting down to business. "They're working a case in Milwaukee. Gideon hasn't shown up, and don't tell me you quit or I put in for a transfer."_

_Emily's breath caught in her throat for a moment. "You put in for a transfer?"_

_"They're both still hung up in the system, so technically we're in dereliction of duty by not being there."_

_"I'm sorry, I can't go," Emily said, shaking her head._

_"Right," Hotch whispered with haste. "Sorry I barged in."_

_As Hotch turned on his heel, Emily raised a frantic hand. "Wait, wait. Can I ask wh—why are you really here?"_

_"I told you." Hotch had apparently banked on Emily stopping him from leaving, as his departure from the apartment turned quickly into his walking into her kitchen instead as if it were planned; he now stood on the opposite side of her kitchen counter as Emily._

"Well, you _told_ me you wanted me to come to Milwaukee. I don't believe that's why you're really here." Emily crossed her arms, that being a complete front, because, really, she had no evidence to suggest that Hotch was there for any other reason. Something in the air just told her he wasn't just there to get her to come back to work. Or maybe it was simply that she wanted him to be there for another reason. He wasn't talking yet, though. His dark eyes drilled holes in hers. "Is that seriously all you want? Is that all you care about? The BAU?" she asked, not really sure why she did. Most likely to fill the awkward silence.

"That seems to be a recurring theme today," Hotch murmured offhandedly.

Emily furrowed her brow. "What is?"

Hotch shrugged, shaking his head. "Apparently it's a sin to be devoted to my career. I know I'm not home much, but I don't know what else Haley expects me to do. This is who I am."

"Ah-ha," Emily said insightfully. "Problems at home?" Emily climbed up onto one of her cushioned bar stools and pushed the countertop wine rack out of the way to gain an unobstructed view of him.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Hotch said, scratching his neck.

"We're not coworkers anymore, Hotch. You can talk to me. We can be friends."

"We weren't friends when we were coworkers?" Hotch challenged. Emily saw a twinkle in his eye despite the seriousness of what he had just divulged to her.

"Not friends that talked, really. Go have a seat on the couch. Do you want a drink?" she asked, hopping down from her bar stool and circling around the counter to the fridge. Hotch eyed her warily, not budging from his spot. "If you want a drink, I need to get to the fridge. Seriously, go sit down."

Hotch thought for a moment, wondered whether this was appropriate. Who was he kidding? Of course it wasn't.

_She's wearing red_, he thought. _Unfair. Very unfair...I shouldn't be here...I am still married, even if it hasn't felt like it in months._

"Hotch?"

He started. "Sorry." He moved out of Emily's way and found a seat in her living room.

"Beer, wine, water?"

"I'm all right, really," Hotch called.

"Don't say I didn't offer," Emily said in a sing-song voice, grabbing a bottle of water for herself. She sat down gracefully next to Hotch. "So, what's going on?"

"Nothing beyond what I already said, really. She thinks I love my career more than I love her."

Emily went out on a very brittle limb. "Well, do you?"

Hotch wanted to react, wanted to chastise Emily for inferring something so appalling, but he had opened the door to a personal conversation by staying, and her question was perfectly valid. "I don't—I guess I don't know."

"Well..." Emily said with no idea of where the rest of her sentence would go. "Do you spend more time at work or with her?"

"At work. We all do. That doesn't mean anything."

"Okay, well, when we have weekends where we're actually here, not on a case, what do you do?"

"I spend time with Haley and Jack."

"And by that do you mean you go to the zoo with them, or cook dinner for them, or do you mean you keep the office door open while you work so they can pop in and say 'hi' when they want to?"

"That's a bold thing to say." Hotch said, though without the nerve to look at Emily straight on.

"I didn't _say_ anything," Emily pointed out. "I'm asking you. You have the option to answer however you want. _Is_ that what you really mean when you say you spend time with them?"

Hotch looked up at Emily, tears rimming his eyes, his face tense.

"Hotch, I—I'm sorry. That was really rude. I shouldn't have said that."

He shook his head, not wiping away his tears, hoping that if he ignored them they might go away. "You're not being rude. You're right on target, unfortunately."

"Then you shouldn't look so sad. Hotch, you are at the perfect point in your life to turn this around," she said, trying to sound hopeful for him. It wasn't easy to push him away when she just wanted him closer to her. "You requested a transfer. You can go home right now and work things out. You can be home more. You don't have to be with the BAU."

"That's where you're wrong," Hotch sad solemnly. "I don't have an 'off' switch. I can't just leave the team. The team is part of my family."

"Haley and Jack _are_ your family."

"That's different."

Emily laughed in disbelief. "How on earth is that different? Haley's your _wife_—"

"That's merely a label lately," Hotch said.

"What do you mean?"

"Our marriage is just a piece of paper anymore. I turned her away from me a long time ago. She was hopeful with the transfer, thought maybe it would fix us, but I wasn't as optimistic. I should want to be there with her. And this isn't about Jack at all. Jack needs her, not me. He's so young he doesn't know the difference anyway. He recognizes me when I come home, and that's all I need. But she takes better care of him than I ever could."

"Hotch, your idea of what a family should be is way off target. And I can say that to you, because you're not my superior now. If you love your wife then you can't go to Milwaukee. What if it's the last straw for her?"

Hotch rolled his lips in, turning his head to Emily. "Then I'll know for sure that she and I weren't meant to be. I'm going. Are you?" Hotch stood up with sudden resolve and stepped past Emily, whose mouth hung open in wonder.

"I told you, I can't."

"You never told me why." Hotch stopped at the kitchen counter again while Emily took uncertain steps into the kitchen. "Don't worry, I know why. Strauss asked for dirt. You hate politics. You left instead."

Emily nodded sadly.

"You don't have to give her anything, Emily."

"I know I don't."

"Then what's holding you back?" Hotch didn't wait for an answer but opened one of the closet doors, got lucky, and found Emily's ready bag. "Still packed?" he asked.

"Hotch, you can't just—"

"The team needs you."

"No, they don't."

"Then do it for me. Just one more case."

Emily's puffed up her cheeks full of air and smacked her thighs. "Fine. One more case."

Hotch's look was partly self-satisfied, partly worried. He wasn't sure what monster he might've just unleashed.

—

_Hotch's heart still hadn't stopped pounding by the time he had a moment to see Emily at the ambulance. It certainly didn't help his adrenaline slow as he saw a paramedic dabbing blood from Emily's forehead as she sat on the ambulance steps. Her blood had dripped all the way down her chest. She waited patiently, blinking uncontrollably from the stinging she must have been experiencing after being hit over the head by a two-by-four toted by a full-grown man._

_"How's your head?" Hotch asked._

_"I'll live," she said with a light sigh, feeling slightly dizzy. "Is it weird I'm glad to be back?" She looked desperately up at him, making him unsure why exactly she was glad._

_Hotch only thought for half a second. No comments about being glad himself that she was back. "I'll make sure it stays official."_

_Emily watched Hotch go for only a moment, then stared off into the distance. _What am I doing? _she asked herself._

_A moment later she caught sight of Hotch conversing with Strauss. The latter was clearly upset that things had gone so well (save for the gash on Emily's forehead). She heard Hotch say something about it being a mistake to break up the team. At this moment she locked eyes with him, begging for information._

_"None of you will ever move up the chain of command, you know that," Strauss said firmly._

_"Why would I ever want to leave the BAU?" Hotch said shortly, walking away without giving Strauss a chance to respond to him._

—

_Emily tossed her keys carelessly onto the kitchen counter as she ambled past it, heading straight for her window. She set her bag down by the stairs, still feeling a bit unsteady, but kept on her path toward the window that afforded her one of the best views in town._

I could have left. I should have left. I can't keep doing this,_ she thought as she hugged herself, warming her arms._

—

_Hotch wondered about what he had said to Emily earlier. That if Haley couldn't handle him being gone, then maybe the two of them weren't meant to be. This possibility became a heart-sinking reality when he came home to a mostly dark house. He dropped his bag at the door, explored the rest of the house with an ever-deepening sense of self-loathing. "Haley?"_

_No Haley. No Jack._

—

Emily rolled her eyes and groaned, slipping on a thin, almost pointless robe over her pajamas when she heard a knock at her apartment door. She checked herself in her bathroom mirror first, making sure she'd left no traces of smeared makeup. Whoever it was knocked again. "Hang on," she called, hurrying down the stairs.

Through the peephole she saw him again._ Him. Again._ This time there was no purpose on his face. He wasn't on some secret mission. She'd never seen him look so blank.

"Hey," she said softly upon opening the door.

"Can I—"

"Come on in," she said before he could finish. He didn't carry his briefcase or bag with him. Just his keys.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" Emily led the way into the living room, her bare feet not making a sound on the hardwood floor.

"For not listening to you. And for making you come back. And for, I don't know, being here right now. In the middle of the night, when you're obviously either ready to go to bed or annoyed that I woke you." Hotch stared out the same window Emily had only an hour or so ago, sticking his hands in his pockets. He didn't sit, even though Emily curled up into a chair.

"What's going on, Hotch?" Emily was suddenly surprised that her boss was in her apartment at night, when he should have been at home with his family. And she was in pajamas. Why had it taken Hotch pointing this out to make it salient to her?

Hotch was no longer expressionless, but once again became his broody self for a moment. He gave the view of D.C. a hateful stare before turning to Emily, remembering to calm his face before addressing her. "Haley's gone. She took Jack."

Emily slowly opened her mouth, let her jaw hang in shock. "Hotch..."

"You were right. I shouldn't have gone." He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the stairs. "You said you had beer?"

"Yeah," Emily said hurriedly, getting out of her chair.

"I'll help myself," Hotch said, gesturing for her to sit again. "Want anything?"

Emily felt it odd that her boss was asking her if she wanted anything from her own refrigerator. "Beer's good."

Hotch popped the bottles open with a magnetic opener from the fridge hung there for that purpose and brought two green bottles into the living room. He finally sat, hunching over on the edge of the couch and facing Emily.

Emily felt it prudent to make sure her robe was covering her legs as much as possible. She tucked her feet underneath her. "Hotch, I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say."

He shrugged, taking a long draft. "The worst part is I can't blame anyone but myself."

Emily couldn't argue with that. She wanted to comfort him somehow, sit next to him and rub his back, but she had to remind herself of who he was. "I'm sure she'll come back. Maybe she just went to a family member's place. Does she have any family around here?"

"Just her sister," Hotch answered. "That's probably where she is. I just..." Hotch had to set his beer down, as he needed both hands to hide his shame. He gave a shuddering sigh, then his shoulders began to quake. "How do I fix this?" he managed through the tears he was trying to camouflage.

Emily's feet carried her quietly but swiftly to the couch. She rested an arm on Hotch's shoulder. "You tell her you're sorry. That you made a mistake. That you're not staying with the BAU."

"But I _am_ staying with the BAU."

"If you want to save your marriage, you _can't _stay, Hotch. You need a voice of reason. Let me be that. Trust me when I say that if you stay with the BAU, your marriage is going to take a huge hit. I don't know if it would survive."

"We're already just treading water," Hotch said stuffily, reaching for his beer.

"Do you _want_ to save your marriage?" Emily asked frankly. She finally got eye contact from Hotch as he turned his head.

"I don't want to keep hurting people," Hotch said. "But I'm too selfish."

"If you don't want to keep hurting her, then you either need to let her go now, or fight for her with everything you have in you. I don't think there's any happy medium here."

"You're right," he said yet again. A war was being waged in his head, with one side telling him he had a wife and son, could make it work if he sacrificed what he'd worked so hard for, but the other side countering that here sat next to him a woman for whom he'd harbored more than friendly feelings for a while. He wasn't sure if his attraction to her was merely physical, some artifact of his marriage going down the tubes, or if it was real. Could be real. Once he'd fixed himself. After all, how could she be ever be angry at him for staying where he wanted to stay, when, by following him back to Milwaukee, she'd said it's where she'd wanted to stay as well?

"I know this is gonna sound weird, but it's already weird that you're here in the middle of the night and I'm in my pajamas and we're drinking, so do you want to crash on the couch?"

Hotch scrubbed at his face with his hands. "I'm fine to drive. It was just a beer."

"I was thinking more along the lines of not having to be alone," Emily said. _Did I really just say that?_ "How long of a drive is it back to your place?" she asked.

"Forty minutes."

"It's already twelve-thirty. Just stay." Emily strode over to the nearest closet and got out a blanket and two pillows and tossing them to Hotch. "There's a guest bathroom right around the corner if you need it."

**A/N: This one is nothing earth-shattering. I'm not into cheating, and since Hotch is still married in this episode (even if by a thread), that's as far as I could go. Thanks for reading and please leave a review!  
**


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